the blow of Mr F's death that I would learn the Organ of which
I am extremely fond but of which I am ashamed to say I do not yet know a
note, good evening!'

When Mr Dorrit, who attended her to the room-door, had had a little time
to collect his senses, he found that the interview had summoned back
discarded reminiscences which jarred with the Merdle dinner-table.
He wrote and sent off a brief note excusing himself for that day, and
ordered dinner presently in his own rooms at the hotel. He had another
reason for this. His time in London was very nearly out, and was
anticipated by engagements; his plans were made for returning; and he
thought it behoved his importance to pursue some direct inquiry into the
Blandois disappearance, and be in a condition to carry back to Mr
Henry Gowan the result of his own personal investigation. He therefore
resolved that he would take advantage of that evening's freedom to go
down to Clennam and Co.'s, easily to be found by the direction set forth
in the handbill; and see the place, and ask a question or two there
himself.

Having dined as plainly as the establishment and the Courier would let
him, and having taken a short sleep by the fire for his better recovery
from Mrs Finching, he set out in a hackney-cabriolet alone. The deep
bell of St Paul's was striking nine as he passed under the shadow of
Temple Bar, headless and forlorn in these degenerate days.

As he approached his destination through the by-streets and water-side
ways, that part of London seemed to him an uglier spot at such an hour
than he had ever supposed it to be. Many long years had passed since he
had seen it; he had never known much of it; and it wore a mysterious and
dismal aspect in his eyes. So powerfully was his imagination impressed
by it, that when his driver stopped, after having asked the way more
than once, and said to the best of his belief this was the gateway they
wanted, Mr Dorrit stood hesitating, with the coach-door in his hand,
half afraid of the dark look of the place.

Truly, it looked as gloomy that night as even it had ever looked. Two of
the handbills were posted on the entrance wall, one on either side, and
as the lamp flickered in the night air, shadows passed over them, not
unlike the shadows of fingers following the lines. A watch was evidently
kept upon the place. As Mr Dorrit paused, a man passed in from over the
way, and another man passed out from some dark corner within; and both